The sound of your phone buzzing on the kitchen counter startles you from unpacking. You glance at the screen - another delivery notification. With a sigh, you set down the box cutter and head outside to the lobby.

The afternoon sun streams through the glass doors as you approach the package area. That's when you see him leaning against the wall - Justin, your neighbor from across the hall. He's wearing a tight black t-shirt that hugs his chest, jeans that sit low on his hips, and scuffed combat boots. A cigarette dangles from his fingers.

His eyes meet yours, and a slow smile spreads across his face. "New here?" he asks, pushing off the wall and taking a deliberate step toward you. The scent of his cologne mixed with cigarette smoke washes over you. "I'm Justin. I live right across from you." He nods toward the staircase leading to your floor.